Rekindling
by xXxThe Phantom's RosexXx
Summary: "'You're playing with fire here.' The thought of loving someone terrified me. However, one phrase echoed through my mind – It's worth the burn." Takes place during Mockingjay, in the moments in which Peeta and Katniss "grow back together" that we are not privy to in the book.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Right about my 255****th**** story, I made the announcement that I was quitting Fanfiction for a while to work on my novel. I did that, but I do miss Fanfiction quite a bit. I miss the beautiful friends I have made on here throughout the years, and I am coming home to it once again. I will update my other stories, but not yet. I want to work on this project a bit. It feels like it needs to be written. **

**Last night, I stayed up all night to read the entire Hunger Games trilogy. I had been curious of the trilogy for some time, but never read it prior. Until last night. I was so enamored by it, that I couldn't put down my Kindle. I didn't eat. I didn't go to the restroom. I just read. Constantly. Until I finished. By the time I was reading Mockingjay I was a wreck – I was crying and shaking. I was in love. When I read the very last sentence on the very last page, I just sat there stunned. I couldn't believe after I had just read what I had, that the world was still carrying on as usual. **

**So I am going to try my hand at writing a Hunger Games Fanfiction.**

**Logistics of this story:**

**Takes place during the "lost time" when Peeta and Katniss reconnect and work through everything and ultimately fall in love. Bad summary, but just a background of where we are in their story.**

**Also, this is going to be AU – some parts of the story (where they live, etc.) will be changed for the purposes of this story. I will try not to go completely off the deep-end with this. I keep my stories fairly grounded.**

**Lastly, I hope you enjoy. I hope I can do this fandom justice and don't completely make a fool of myself in trying to write this story. After the first chapter, I'll see what the feedback is and if its receiving good response. Please, if you are inclined to review, go ahead and critique it. Tell me where I am failing and where I am excelling. Don't hold back.**

**Now then, on to the story!**

**REKINDLING  
CHAPTER ONE**

The house is nice – it really is. It is everything I could ever imagined, but it's lacking. The spacious rooms of brick and steel and crystal are lovely, but they are nothing without the sound of her laughter filling them. I wish more than anything that she could be here to share in this with me. I sit down on the bed and begin to scratch at Buttercup's ears. He purrs softly, and I try to smile at him.

"She would love this, wouldn't she?" I say to the cat. Buttercup sits up slightly, as if knowing instantly to whom I am referring – Prim.

After, well…everything – we returned to District Twelve. The Capitol wanted to rebuild its lost District, and they decided that Peeta and I should be allowed to return there. Funds were raised under the new leadership and citizens from other Districts were given special enticements to move to District Twelve – enticements of new housing and food. District Twelve was being built right around us – and, under the new laws, was in need of ambassadors of the Capitol. Each District would have two ambassadors – a male and a female – to serve on a special committee that would be called into meeting once every three months, in the Capitol. It didn't take us long to realize that Peeta and I would be those ambassadors.

He objected at first – saying that he was not mentally fit to bare that sort of responsibility. He was quickly overruled on that decision, and we were brought back to District Twelve. The Capitol had sent in workers to rebuild houses and shops. All these workers and new citizens were justly compensated.

One area was set aside especially for the house of the ambassadors. Haymitch traveled with us, along with several "workers" that would care for the gardens and the cleaning. Peeta and I hadn't said much to each other, and the train ride was filled with uncomfortable silence. I knew he was just as anxious as I was to return to our old home. He was curious, just as I, to see the changes and the improvements of our District. When the train stopped, dropping us off at the place that seemed for so long, so far away, Peeta glanced at me. It was one of the rare looks we managed to share when we weren't absolutely terrified of the other. I mustered a deep breath and lungs full of courage before turning and glancing up at him.

"We're here," I said, my voice a shadow of a whisper.

"We are," Peeta said, his voice level and matter-of-factly.

We were taken to our house right away. As we made the journey, we glanced around in awe at the new District Twelve. Buildings were built and were being built. The shops were beginning to be restored, and flowers and trees had been planted in the town's square.

"This is it," Haymitch announced as we approached the house. It was a large, red-brick thing with two stories. Flowers wrapped around the house and there were trees scattered in the lawn. It looked like a house I had seen in dreams and in picture books. It was so stunning and I couldn't believe that it was to be my new home.

The first story housed a kitchen which Peeta took to instantly. He ran his hand across the steel of a stove and a small fraction of a smile gifted his lips. There was also a living area with big couches, chairs, and a roaring fireplace; as well as a library filled with books. Upstairs we found three bedrooms and two large bathrooms with tubs the size of swimming holes and crystal chandeliers. It was all too much, but it was what the Capitol had wanted to gift us with, and so I accepted gladly.

We had lived there for a week now, and I still was not accustomed to the spaciousness of it all. Everything was so fancy, I felt out of place and worried I would break something at any moment. Buttercup had taken to the new home right away, of course, and had become quite spoiled thanks to the housekeepers.

It had been a week and Peeta and I still had little to no contact with one another. This killed me. We would be pleasant when eating meals together, but mostly kept our distance from each other. We were both scared of the other. I was scared of what I felt when I was around him, and he was scared of me on account of what had been done to him. Yes, he was better, but it wasn't the same. I doubted it ever would be.

"_You could live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve him_." Haymitch's words still echo in my head as I lean back against the numerous pillows upon my bed and scoot Buttercup to the foot of it. Haymitch had been right. All that time, Peeta had been so in love with me and I had been blinded – blinded by fear and by instinct to survive as well as blinded by my own confusion and fear of getting too attached and losing him. If I didn't get attached, maybe when he died it wouldn't be quite so painful – that had been my damning reasoning. Now, Peeta barely remembered the time we spent together, and what he did remember was choppy and inconsistent.

Only now, now that things were so badly broken between us, did I finally realize how much I missed Peeta. I missed the way his arms felt around me, and the way his blue eyes would light up when he would smile at me. I missed his laugh and the way he would roll his eyes or shake his head at me at times. I missed the feeling of his hand in mine.

It was when I realized that me might be dead, that I realized how badly I loved him. It wasn't a traditional love, of course, but these weren't traditional times. All I know was that without Peeta, my existence would be nothing. I needed him. I needed him more than a survival partner though as Gale had said once. I needed him in my life in general. If I went another day without seeing him at least once, I would break. Just his very presence gives me strength and makes me feel that maybe – just maybe – I will be okay.

I always thought soulmates were silly things in books or stories. But that all changed when I realized that my very soul was nothing without his. And now we didn't even speak but a few words to each other. Now, everything was broken.

He helped the cooks in the kitchen, and I would go out and help the builders and hunt. I hunted quite a bit now in order to help feed everyone. The Capitol gave us more and better food rations, but I still wanted everyone to be gifted with fresh meat after the end of a long day's work. I would hunt, and Peeta would cook. We would eat together, and sit by the fire and read together. But rarely did we talk.

When we did, it was pleasantries – the usual, "Good morning" and "Good night." Sometimes when we would read together, on good days, we'd dare to peer over the bindings of our books and cast shy smiles at each other. On the bad days, Peeta would stay in his room or in the living room with Haymitch talking to him and trying to pull him back into reality.

I wasn't allowed to see him when he would "slip." Haymitch was starting to stay sober and would be on the look-out. He knew the signs – the glazing of the eyes or the shaking hands – and would place a hand on Peeta's shoulder and lead him into one of the rooms where they could be concealed from me. Sometimes I would listen in to their conversations – Haymitch speaking in hushed, calm tones or sometimes harsh frustrated tones. The bad days had happened four out of the seven days we had been here. I wasn't sure how to judge that.

It's night now, and the curtains are pulled tight. There is a fire roaring in the fireplace across from my too-big bed. My only company at night is Buttercup, and he doesn't appreciate me waking up thrashing and in a cold sweat. When I do, he'll scratch or kick at me. I begin to miss the feel of Peeta's arms around me more and more.

At night, I do not sleep until I have lain awake past the point of exhaustion and eventually collapse against my pillow only to be awakened by the horrid nightmares and the frustrated mewing and scratching of Buttercup.

Tonight is different though. Tonight, I fall asleep eventually just as every other night, but this nightmare is worse. This time, I wake up screaming. When I awake, my throat is so sore and I am shaking and cold. I do not remember the dream at all, but feel as though I am gasping for air. I instantly shut up when I realize the commotion I must be making, but it is too late. There is a knock at the door. Mortification consumes me, and I think maybe if I ignore it, it'll go away.

But knock is persistent, and finally opens a crack. I expect it to be one of the housemaids, but instead I see Peeta standing in the doorway.

"Katniss?" His voice is gentle, he's testing the waters here and he knows it. Also, he has never entered my room before – this whole thing is uncharted territory for him.

"Peeta?" I still can't believe it's him, and I start to question rather or not I am still dreaming, "I-I am sorry I woke you," I stammer, my cheeks flaming red, "Really."

"Was it another nightmare?" He asks, stepping over the threshold and closing the door behind him. I nod, confiding yes. Peeta sighs and says, "I hear you sometimes. But I never know if you want me to come."

I don't know what to say to that, but somehow the words, "Will you stay with me tonight," form.

"What if I slip?" He asks, coming closer to the bed and I can see the brokenness in those blue eyes, "What if I hurt you?"

"Oh please, Peeta," I work up the strength to make my voice light as I roll my eyes, "I can _totally_ take you."

His brow furrows again as his brain registers that this is banter, "I don't know. You're pretty taken with me, Katniss. I don't know how much damage you'd be able to inflict upon me."

"Plenty if you don't knock off," I roll my eyes, thankful for this moment of lightheartedness, "So watch it."

"You love it," Peeta says, lifting the blankets and crawling into bed beside me, "You wouldn't be blushing if you didn't."

"Peeta," I threatened.

I could see his smile in the soft light from the embers of the fire. It's a small smile, but it's a smile nonetheless. Suddenly, it fades and he says –

"Katniss, in all seriousness, what if I hurt you tonight? Aren't you scared of me?"

"The benefit outweighs the risk," I explain, "I want you here."

He nods and I shove a few pillows for him. He adjusts them, punches them softly, and lays his head down next to mine. Our temples are touching and this is the closest I have been to him in a long time. For the first time, in a long time, I feel at peace. I am lying next to a boy who could kill me in my sleep if he happened to have another slip, and yet I feel at peace.

"Katniss, I'll stay here tonight, but I am just warning you – if you start snoring I will be forced to kick you."

"I do not snore!" I object and he lets a small snort escape. It's the closest I've come to hearing his laugh.

"How'd you know?" He wraps his arms around me in the way he had done so many times and I can't help but thinking how grateful I am for this rare moment. I pray there will be more of these moments in the future.

I roll my eyes and lean into his touch. I feel his lips press against my temple in a soft kiss.

"Good night, sweetheart," he says.

"Good night, Peeta," I say. And for the first time in a long time, I find myself sleeping through the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Wow. Thank you guys for the awesome responses. Yes, I will try to explain more as each chapter progresses. I hope you are enjoying it, and will enjoy this next chapter as well. I think my summary for it needs a little work, so I'll try to improve that tonight. Thanks for your support! **

**CHAPTER TWO**

When I woke up, Haymitch and some strange man whom I had never seen before were standing over me. I blinked the bleary sleep from my eyes and tried to regain my bearings. I then remembered the night before. I remembered falling asleep in Peeta's arms for the first time in far too long. I remembered how right before I dozed off, I dared do to something I had never done before, and I draped my leg over his. I remembered him holding me closer to him and burying his lips in my tangled hair, plaiting one last kiss before we dozed off. Then everything was blank.

I turned to try to see Peeta, but a searing pain ripped through my shoulder. I couldn't help but cry out in pain, and then I noticed the white bandage wrapped around my shoulder-blade. What had happened last night? And was Peeta hurt too?

"Lay back," Haymitch shoved my 'good' shoulder so I was laying back against my pillows, "You need to rest. You've lost quite a bit of blood – nothing fatal, obviously, but enough to make you pretty weak. You've been asleep for almost the whole day, but you need to rest more. What were you thinking pulling a stupid stunt like that, Katniss?" His voice was harsh and rubbed my eyes with the back of my 'good' hand.

"I-I don't know…"

"The boy," the man said, "The boy you were with. Haymitch has informed me of the situation. Apparently the boy…."

"He has a _name_," I bit the words sharply.

"Peeta," the man corrected himself, and for some reason him saying Peeta's name still didn't make things any better. Fear coursed through me as the man continued, "My name is Saeant. I am the local medic that the Capitol has brought in for the district. Haymitch called me right away when he found you…"

"Found me?"

"Girl, you were lying there gushing blood and Peeta was on top of you with a knife."

"_What_?" I couldn't believe it – I wouldn't believe it. Not after how perfect things had been last night. It just wasn't possible. He couldn't have slipped.

"It's been okay," Haymitch continues as I rub my temple trying to sort these words that I don't understand, "You and him. You two have been almost good. I've let you be alone with him to read by the fire, or help each other in the kitchen with the kitchen staff. But girl, what you did last night is inexcusable. He could have killed you. Do you realize that? At least during the day, I can sort of keep an eye on you two – and if you hollered, I'd get to you in time. But what were you thinking last night? Why did you have him sleep with you?"

The words "_because I can't sleep without him_," though unspoken, clung in the air like a fog. Haymitch growls something inaudible and shakes his head with frustration. I lightly run my fingertips across the bandage on my shoulder.

"He slipped last night," Saeant explains, "He awoke and went to the kitchen to grab a knife…he's still hardwired to kill you, Miss Katniss."

"No," I shake my head, not wanting to hear these words, "No. We were fine last night. We were…happy together. We even laughed together. He…he kissed my hair," I blush every shade of red with that exposure, but I still can't believe that what they're telling me has actually happened, "He didn't. I know he didn't."

"You blacked out," Haymitch explains, "Katniss, I don't want you alone with him when the servants or I am not around. This is dangerous. You're playing with fire here."

"It's worth the burn," the words spill out harshly and Haymitch looks as though I had just slapped him. He shakes his head again and runs a hand through his mop of blond strings.

"I have him in his room now," Haymitch explains again, "He's handcuffed…"

"No!"

"He begged me to, sweetheart," Haymitch sighs and I don't like the image in my head of Peeta with metal bracelets shackling him, "He is really shaken up about what he did. When he came out of the slip…he tried to turn the blade on himself. I don't know what the Capitol was thinking, sending us those knives. I'll request some Faux Blades be sent in…"

Faux Blades were specially engineered knives that would cut anything – except human flesh. It would kill Peeta to know we had to resort to those. Those were the ones used in sanitariums.

"When I can see him?" I request, thinking of that damned image of Peeta alone in his room, his wrists bound in cuffs, scared of everything that moved practically. It wasn't fair. None of this was his fault. He wasn't insane. He wasn't a mutant or an animal – he was Peeta._ My Peeta_. It wasn't as if he wanted to hurt me. But it was programmed in him to do so. He didn't really have much control over it. I began to swell with hatred – a renewed hatred – for what had been done to him several months prior. It wasn't fair. They had destroyed him. They had destroyed us.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Haymitch stares down at the burgundy carpeting of the floor with intent interest, "He…he is pretty shaken up, girl. He asked that he be kept away from you."

"For how long?" My voice suddenly took on a sense of urgency. When could I see him? When could I hold him in my arms again and see that smile of his again and hear that laugh?

"As long as possible. He requested that he eat his meals in his room, and not have any contact with you, girl. He said in three months when you two are to return to the Capitol for the ambassadors conference, then he will just have to make do with that – but for now, he wants no contact."

"But…that's not fair!" My voice comes out as a whine, and I hate myself for it.

"Katniss, they're his wishes – his requests. He is scared of slipping again, sweetheart. He is scared of doing something to hurt you again. He is trying to protect you."

"_Always trying to protect me_," I hiss, rolling my head back against my pillow, "Why?"

"You know why," Haymitch meets my eyes and raises a brow. And it's true – I do know why. Because even though his brain had been so horrendously altered, he still loved me. He was programmed to hurt me, and hurting me had destroyed him so badly that he had almost turned the knife on himself. I close my eyes and try to let everything sink in. My shoulder scorches and I wish this was some sort of horrible bad dream I'd awaken from. I'd awaken and Peeta would be holding me. He'd whisper to me that everything is alright, and hold me tighter as I fell back asleep in his arms. But I didn't wake up. Instead, Saeant moved to lift my bandage.

"We have to apply more ointment on the wound," he explains, "I've showed Haymitch how to do this, so he'll be able to when I leave you. It'll sting quite a bit, I'm afraid."

The bandage is removed and I don't look as salve is rubbed against the wound. It stings so fiercely and I want to cry out but I don't. I tell myself this pain is nothing. This pain is nothing compared to the pain I will be facing the next three months – the next three months without Peeta.

After the salve is applied, the medic leaves and Haymitch tells me to get some rest. He says that in the morning, someone will be in to bring me some steamed oats with milk in honey. He turns off my light and I stare at the clock on the stand next to my bed. It's eight at night. How am I expected to fall back asleep?

Despite the pain, I grab a pillow and the down blanket from my bed and tiptoe down the hallway to Peeta's bedroom. Haymitch's door is shut and there's a small light pouring from the crack of the threshold. He's probably in for the night. I place the pillow next to Peeta's door and lay down, adjusting the blanket over me. It's the closest I'll come to sleeping by his side ever again, I fear. As I lay there, I reach out and place my palm against his door. I want to say something but the words just won't come.

Eventually, I close my eyes and am able to drift into an uncomfortable sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

Haymitch rolls his eyes as he offers me a hand and helps me up. He knows this is just what's going to happen until I can finally see Peeta again. After all, he has been privy to the sounds of my nightscreams as well.

"Girl," his voice is level, "Come eat. I'll get one of the maids to help take this stuff back to your room."

I nod and follow him to the dining room. Prepared for me, as promised, are steamed oats with milk and honey. It should be a treat, but I taste nothing. My shoulder is aching fiercely and the fact that I am eating without Peeta sitting across from me severely agitates me.

"What are you feeling, girl?" Haymitch asks as he dumps a piece of bagel into a steaming cup of coffee, "I can see all sorts of things in your eyes. That kind of burden is a heavy one to carry alone."

"It's not fair, Haymitch," I explain, "All that time, he loved me so much and I…I didn't even…I don't know," it's hard to describe into words everything that is on my heart, but I know Haymitch may be able to offer some form of advice, "I used him for the games. I put on this mask and used the love he had for me as this…lead – a leg up in the games. But his feelings were genuine and I…I didn't reciprocate them. Not until much later. Even still…I don't know what I feel for him."

"Love," Haymitch says without skipping a beat.

"But not the romantic love he feels for me," I explain, pushing my oats around with the spoon, "He loves me so much. If he had his way, we'd be married and have babies together. But I just…I don't see that. I don't see that with anyone. Maybe I am not capable of romantic love, Haymitch."

"You're capable, sweetheart, you're just scared. You've lost so many loved ones, and you're afraid you'll lose Peeta too."

"I've already lost him, I'm afraid," I take a sip of my cider and try to ignore the pain in my heart.

"We don't know that yet," Haymitch is persistent, "And I know for a fact, you do love him. Maybe not in a romantic way, but you love him. I see it clear as day."

"Gale once said that I would only be with the person who I'd survive with. I can't survive without Peeta, but it goes deeper than that. I feel like…when I thought he had been killed…I felt as though everything had ended. I felt…heartache. And not for myself. I don't know how to explain it. I just feel like we're connected somehow. What I feel for him goes beyond anything I have ever felt for anyone except Prim. I can't explain it."

"You care so deeply about him – you both do. We're still working on him, girl. I'll talk with him several times, every day. I'll take it slow, but I want to try to get those memories back – but I need to do that with his full trust. I don't want something I say to make him slip. I can't guarantee it will work, but I am going to try. I hate this just as much as you do, girl."

I nod and return my attention to my breakfast. Maybe one day things will get better, but for now I am alone without Peeta – alone with all these confused thoughts and feelings. Haymitch was right. The thought of loving someone terrified me. However, one phrase echoed through my mind –

_It's worth the burn. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

We carried on like this for a month. A whole, maddening month. My shoulder was finally starting to heal, and with the new medicines some of the workers of the district had begun producing, pain was minimal. I could finally hunt again. More and more new citizens – wide-eyed with the possibilities that awaited them here – flocked in. There were so many of us that I couldn't provide everyone with fresh meat. There were other hunters too that would contribute. We'd hunt and some of the women in the district would cook. Peeta still baked in our spacious kitchen, but not that I ever saw him. Haymitch insisted I was out when Peeta was free to wander to the house.

I felt like he was a prisoner, and it destroyed me to know he was locked away and handcuffed whenever I was around. The slips weren't quite so frequent, and Haymitch even confided in me that he thought he was finally start to get through to him. They could talk and share memories. Sometimes there would be a flicker of something pass over Peeta's eyes, shadowing them. But it would fade quickly and he'd smile and continue onwards with the conversation.

That was something, right? I started trading some of the meat I'd fetch with the people of the district and was even making some friends, but nothing could replace Peeta. The house felt so empty and I always felt alone there. And one of the most terrifying things about the whole mess? I was getting used to the nightmares.

To pass the time, I kept myself busy. I was rarely in the house except for some in the morning, and of course to go to bed at night. I just couldn't be there; it was maddening. But one day, that all changed. It was evening, and I was sitting by the fire just staring into the flames as they lapped and licked at each other like tongues. Orange. The glow of the embers was a soft orange – _like a sunset._ I close my eyes and lean back against the couch, memories play through my mind like reels of film when suddenly the door opens a crack, and Peeta is standing there.

Haymitch raises an eyebrow as he peers over to top of his newspaper that he's reading. My breath catches in my throat. He still looks the same, but there's something different – a kind of tired wearing in his eyes. I want to go to him like I did that day in the snow, and run into his arms – only this time, it wouldn't be for show. I don't. I straighten and my mouth forms a fraction of a smile. It's the only greeting I can make myself give – I don't think my mouth would be capable of forming words right now. Peeta is holding something in his hand, brown and worn. It takes me a minute to realize it's a book.

"It's old, older than any other book I've read but it's good," he comes closer to me, but still keeps his distance. He holds the book out to me and I reach out for it. When I grasp it, our eyes meet and he continues –

"I thought you'd like it. The uh…the main character reminds me of you."

I run my fingers across the binding and crack it open to the first page. The pages are yellowed and spotted with brown age marks, but I can make out the words JOAN OF ARC on that first page. A small smile crosses my lips. Something tells me that I am going to like this book, and I am grateful for Peeta for sharing it with me.

"Thank you," I say, closing the book and meeting his eyes again – the whole while Haymitch is watching intently, thinking he's being sneaky behind his newspaper and failing miserably at it, "How are you?"

"Okay," he answers and I hope he's being honest with me, "How are you?"

"Okay," I set the book down on the coffee table in front of me and nod towards the spot on the couch next to me, asking him to see. Haymitch shifts slightly in his chair and Peeta runs a hand through his hair as if trying to decide if he should or not.

"I won't bite," I encourage and he grunts a half-laugh half-snort again – the only thing close to a laugh I've really heard him make in a rather long time.

Peeta rolls his eyes good-naturedly and sits down next to me. His tone changed as he said, "But mutts do."

I scowled at him and he bothered his lower lip between his teeth. He knew I hated it when he brought up that sort of thing. I hated it when he called himself that horrible word. He wasn't a mutt. He hadn't been ruined – he was still my Peeta. I could see it in his eyes, when they weren't glazed over, that sparkle that was only his. He leans forward to the fire and rubs his hands together before leaning back against the couch, "How's the shoulder?"

"A lot better. I'm hunting again…" I realize he already knows that as soon as the words spill out and I realize I must sound like a total moron. It doesn't faze him though –

"Well that's good," he says genuinely, "I am really…"

"It's fine, Peeta," I try to sound assuring, but it's difficult, "I am glad you came out of hiding. I've missed you."

"It's for the best. I just wanted to give you the book, and I knew Haymitch would be here so…yeah. I just can't be around you, Katniss," and as he says it, I swear I hear his heart cracking, "I can't risk hurting you again. It's like I blacked out that night. I can't risk another blackout. What if I do something even worse to you? What if I kill you?"

"Peeta…"

"It's too risky."

"But you're working with him," I turn to Haymitch who starts making these random throat-clearing sounds, and I think he's rather taken back with the fact that we've actually noticed him sitting there, "Right?"

"Well yes, but nothing is definite. I've never done this before, Katniss. I'm trying, but I am no expert. Peeta is doing quite well, but he's been away from you. I don't know what would happen if he had another slip with you here. We can't risk it."

"No…" I shake my head.

"Katniss, it's for the best. I just can't be around you. I can't hurt you. Just thinking of hurting you kills me, sweetheart. How can you not see?"

"No!" My voice is harsh and I jump up from the couch. Haymitch raises an eyebrow, startled by my sudden outburst, "Don't you realize what being a part from you will do to me? Do you realize what it's already done?"

Haymitch coughs slightly and says, "Girl, you know we're all in a tough spot in this. It's not easy for any of us but…Peeta has considered moving to…"

"No."

"Katniss…" Peeta's voice is its constantly gentle tone and it makes me want to shake him; how can he be so calm about everything when I was breaking, "It's for the best. I can't be around you. I could slip and hurt you."

"Then hurt me."

"Katniss…"

I turn and stand before him, so close that our chests are practically touching him, "Hurt me," I dare him, raising an eyebrow, "Do whatever it is you think you're programed to do. Hurt me. Kill me. Whatever. Just do it."

Peeta's eyes are swimming back in forth with confusion and his lips part slightly as he shakes his head. He reaches up and touches the ends of my hair with his fingertips, and suddenly I am standing in the arena again, berries in my hand.

"You aren't. You didn't even clench your fists…"

"Katniss, I could never hurt you; but sometimes I turn into this monster and that…that thing isn't me. I don't know what it will do, and I have no control over it. It could hurt you. I never would, but it can and it will if I am allowed to be around you."

"So this books is a parting gift?" I raise an eyebrow towards the book on the table.

"Haymitch and I were thinking it would be best if I lived elsewhere. You can't sleep outside of my bedroom door on the floor each night, sweetheart."

"Then I'll sleep outside on the porch of wherever you live. Peeta…don't do this."

"Katniss, what choice do I have? I don't have any control over this thing inside of me. I wish I did. I really do. I don't know how to tame it, but…"

"Then let's figure out how to tame it…together. Peeta, for the past few years, everything we have done has been together. Why not this? We survived the games together…" I knew as soon as I said it, I shouldn't have. Something glazed over his eyes, and his jaw set tightly. I kept my words steady as I continued, "…we can survive this too. If you give it a chance."

"Katniss…"

"Can't you do something?" I glare at Haymitch who is staring quite intently at the rug beneath his feet, "Please?"

Haymitch didn't say anything other than, "I'm sorry, girl." That's all he said a few weeks later when Peeta went to move into one of the new houses that were built behind some of the shops. A bakery was being built, and I had been told by Haymitch that we would be working there. I began to wonder if I would see Peeta again before having to go to the Capitol together.

I didn't even say goodbye to Peeta when he left. Haymitch helped him take some of his personal items over to his new house, and I stayed locked away in my bedroom. I watched them though, through the bedroom window, peering out from behind the curtain. Peeta's shoulders were stooped and he had a look of defeat shadowing his eyes. I wanted to run to him and tell him to stop, not to go. But I didn't. I stayed frozen in place. He even glanced up at the window, and I slipped back behind the curtain before he could make eye contact with me, certain that if he did, I would cry.

The first night without him in the house was unbearable. I tried to sleep, and stay in my own bed, but the whole thing was just miserable. I cried silent tears into Buttercup's displeased fur. I just didn't know what to do with myself without Peeta there – a thought that shook me to the marrow.

I had always been so strong, so independent. I took care of Prim when mom checked out. I took care of Rue the best I could, and Peeta. I tried to insure they were safe, as well as my own safety. I fought for so much in that arena. I was the girl on fire. I was the mockingjay.

So then why did I suddenly feel so broken without Peeta?

Peeta Mellark of all people. I roll over and burry my face into the pillows, allowing the down to soak up the tears instead of Buttercup – to which I am sure he is grateful. I try to bite my lip to keep from crying, but stop the moment I taste rust in my mouth. Everything had been turned on a dime. Everything was so different. This world wasn't the same. It could never be the same.

And how was I supposed to survive without him there to hold my hand?


End file.
